Recent DJ Posts

Noticing pain in my hand, I look closer and see a splinter in my thumb. As I hold my hand, I also notice a splinter on the outside edge of my hand. Both on my right hand. Immediately, I grab my box cutter and begin to dig the splinter out of my thumb. I cut along the splinter as I usually do, but somehow the cut is just a hair off, and not helpful at all. A little unsure about how I managed to miss like that, I continue to scrape at it in the usual way. Careful not to scrape along the new cut I just made, it manages to seal back together like nothing had happened, only a little pain that is completely drowned out by the irritation from the splinter.

Worried that people will think I'm just being a slacker, I change my position so that I'm not laying down on my side across the desk as I do this. Now the lighting is sort of dim, so I go stand directly under a ceiling light for an easier view. Not getting the splinter out of my thumb yet, I decide to give the other one a go, and contort myself to get a good angle on it. Carefully holding the box cutter by the edge of the razor blade, I begin to rake at the second splinter to get it out. This one is much easier, and after removing some surface skin, the splinter flips over, and sticks out of my hand. I wipe it away with the blade.

Then I notice it's 9:40 and I'm already late for work! I'll have to finish the splinter removal later, and I run to my bicycle, dropping every thought of what else I want to do in order to make it to work as fast as humanly possible.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a house with a few other people. I may have been walking through a dim hallway. There were doorways open to rooms, some of which may have had turquoise walls. The rooms were all slightly dim, lit by greyish natural light coming in through the windows.

I saw two people, each of whom had something wrong with them. The second person actually had his left eyebrow shaved off. But his skin had been shaved off as well, and there was just a big, bloody wound where the guy's eyebrow had been.

The guy either told me or looked at me in a way that implied that this wound over his eye meant that I was in physical danger. I would die, possibly through my throat being cut, either by myself or by someone else.

I seemed resigned to my fate. I walked into and then out of a bedroom. I had a Bic razor in my hand. I was shaving myself. But I seemed to nick myself just under my left ear. Something about the razor was bad. So I threw it on the ground and got a second razor.

The second razor was cracked halfway along its head. It looked pretty dangerous to use. But I used it anwyay. I seemed to be make the wound on my neck even worse. I was pretty sure now that I was going to bleed to death.

I walked into the kitchen and stood before the sink. Suddenly a stream of blood was flowing down my throat. It seemed to be getting worse and worse. I felt like soon I wouldn't be able to breathe.

I now got panicked. I realized I was finally going to die, and in a way that was kind of gross-feeling and uncomfortable. I thought my mind would probably fade out before things got really bad. But I didn't want to have to deal with the chance.

In my panic I called out, "Mom! Mom!"